The Rancher--A snowbound Western romance

by Joanne Rock

  “How so?” She went still, hoping he was finally going to trust her enough to share the truth about Zach’s death.

  He looked uneasy. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, “For starters, I think Zach might have a son.”

  The news was so unexpected it took her a moment to absorb what he was saying.

  “By this woman?” she wondered aloud, doing the math in her head. Zach had been seventeen at the time, and he’d died fourteen years ago. His son would be at least thirteen by now. “Why? Have you seen her?”

  “No.” Releasing her hand, Miles rose to his feet as if seized by a new restless energy. He massaged the back of his neck while he paced the great room. When he reached the windows overlooking the mountains, he pivoted hard on the rug and stalked toward her again. “A woman came to Mesa Falls a few months ago claiming to have custody of her sister’s child—a thirteen-year-old boy of unknown paternity. The mother died suddenly of an aneurysm and had never told anyone who the father was.”

  Chiara hugged herself as she focused on his words. “And that’s the child you think could be Zach’s son?”

  He nodded. “The woman claimed the kid’s upbringing was being funded by profits from Hollywood Newlyweds. At the time, we wondered if the child could have been one of ours, since Alonzo had helped us all through the aftermath of Zach’s death. He was a mentor for all of us.”

  She covered her lips to smother a gasp of surprise as new pieces fell into place. The news that a private school English teacher had been the pseudonymous author behind Hollywood Newlyweds had been splashed everywhere over Christmas, sending tabloid journalists scrambling to piece together why the author had never taken credit for the book before his death. It made sense to her that he would keep it a secret if he was using the profits to help Zach’s son.

  Aloud, she mused, “You think Salazar knew about Zach’s son and was trying to funnel some funds to the mother to help raise the baby?”

  “Since Lana Allen was his student teacher, maybe he discovered the affair at some point. Although if he knew and didn’t report her to the authorities—hell. Maybe he felt guilty for not intervening sooner.” Miles stopped at the other end of the great room, where Chiara had left her sketchbook. He traced a finger over the open page. “It’s all speculation, but you can see where I’m going with this.”

  Her mind was spinning with the repercussions of the news, and she wasn’t sure what it meant for the friends Zach had left behind. For her. For Miles. And all the other owners of Mesa Falls Ranch. Was this the secret her hacker was trying to steer her away from finding? And if so, why?

  Needing a break from the revelations coming too fast to process, she slid off her throw blanket and rose to join Miles near the table that held her sketchbook. For the moment, it felt easier to think about something else than to wade through what she’d just learned.

  So instead, she wondered what he thought of her drawings. She couldn’t seem to give up her love of art even though she’d ended up working in a field that didn’t call for many of the skills she wished she was using.

  Yet another question about Zach’s son bubbled to the surface, and she found herself asking, “Where is the boy now? And the woman who is guarding him—his aunt? She might have the answers we need.”

  Miles spoke absently as he continued to peruse the sketches. “We have a private detective following a lead on them now. We discussed this at yesterday’s meeting, but I don’t know if the lead panned out yet.” He pulled his attention away from her drawings to meet her gaze. “These are yours?”

  She suspected he needed a break from the thoughts about Zach as much as she did.

  “Yes.” Her gaze followed the familiar lines of pencil drawings from long ago. She’d been carrying around the sketchbook ever since her days at Brookfield, hoping that seeing the drawings now and then would keep her focused on her quest to find out what happened to Zach. Seeing them now helped her to say to Miles, “You’re welcome to look at them, but I wish you’d tell me about the day Zach died. I know you were with him.”

  She’d learned long ago that the Mesa Falls Ranch owners had all been on a horseback riding trip that weekend. She knew seven riders had left Dowdon but only six had returned.

  The firelight cast flickering shadows on Miles’s face as he flipped a page in the sketchbook, revealing a cartoonish horse in muted charcoals. He must have recognized the image, because his expression changed when he saw it.

  “This horse looks like the one in Alec’s video game,” he noted, the comment so off-topic from what she’d asked that she could only think Miles wasn’t ready to talk about it.

  Frustrated, she shook her head but let him lead her back to the discussion of the drawings.

  “No.” She pointed at the image over his shoulder, the warmth of his body making her wish she could lean into him. “That’s a favorite image of Zach’s. The horse motif was really prevalent in his work over the four months before he died.” She thought she’d done a faithful job of copying the sort of figure Zach had sketched so often. He’d inspired her in so many ways. “Why? What does it have to do with a video game?”

  Miles’s brow furrowed. “Alec Jacobsen—one of my partners—is a game developer. The series he created using this horse as a character is his most popular.”

  How had she missed that? She made a mental note to look for the game.

  “Then Zach’s work must have inspired him,” she said firmly, knowing that her friend had worked similar images into most of his dreamlike paintings.

  “No doubt. Those two were close friends. I think Alec credited Zach somewhere on his debut game.” He flipped another page in the book while a grandfather clock in the foyer struck the hour with resonant chimes. “As for how Zach died, it’s still disputed among us.”

  Her nerve endings tingled to hear the words. To realize she was close to finally learning the truth after all this time. She held her breath. Waiting. Hoping he would confide in her.

  Miles never took his gaze from the sketchbook as he spoke again. Quietly.

  “He jumped off one of the cliffs into the Arroyo Seco River on a day after heavy rainstorms that raised the water level significantly.” He dragged in a slow breath for a moment before he continued. “But we were never sure if he jumped for fun, because he was a daredevil who lived on the edge, or if he made that leap with the intent to end his life.”

  Chiara closed her eyes, picturing the scene. Zach has been a boy of boundless energy. Big dreams. Big emotions. She could see him doing something so reckless, and she hurt all over again to imagine him throwing everything away in one poor decision.

  “He drowned?” Her words were so soft, they felt like they’d been spoken by someone else.

  “He never surfaced. They found the body later downstream.” Miles paused a moment, setting down the sketchbook and dragging in a breath. “Since there were no suspicious circumstances, they didn’t do an autopsy. His death certificate lists drowning as the cause of death.”

  “How could it not be suspicious?” she asked, her heart rate kicking up. She felt incensed that no one had investigated further. “Even now, you don’t know what happened for sure.”

  “The accident was kept quiet since suicide was a possibility. And Zach had no family.”

  “Meaning there was no one to fight for justice for him,” she remarked bitterly, knowing from personal experience how difficult it had been to find out anything. “So the school ensured no one found out that a fatal incident occurred involving Dowdon students.”

  The bleakness in his eyes was impossible to miss. “That’s right.” His nod was stiff. Unhappy. “On the flip side, there was concern about the rest of us. We were all shell-shocked.”

  Something in his voice, the smallest hesitation from a man normally so confident, forced her to step back. To really listen to what he was saying and remember that this wasn’t just ab
out Zach. What happened on that trip had left its mark on Miles and all of his friends.

  “I’m sorry,” she offered quietly, threading her fingers through his the way he had earlier. “It must have been awful for you.”

  “We all went in the water to look for him,” he continued, his blue gaze fixed on a moment in the past she couldn’t see. “Wes could have died—he jumped right in after him. The rest of us climbed down to the rocks below to see if we could find him.”

  For a long moment, they didn’t speak. She stepped closer, tipping her head to his shoulder in wordless comfort.

  “Time gets fuzzy after that. I don’t know how we decided to quit looking, but it took a long time. We were all frozen—inside and out. Eventually, we rode back to get help, but by then we knew no one was going to find him. At least—” his chin dropped to rest on the top of her head “—not alive.”

  Her chest ached at the thought of sixteen-year-old Miles searching a dangerously churning river for his friend and not finding him. She couldn’t imagine how harrowing the aftermath had been. She’d grappled with Zach’s loss on her own, not knowing the circumstances of his death. But for Miles to witness his friend’s last moments like that, feeling guilt about it no matter how misplaced, had to be an unbearable burden. A lifelong sorrow.

  Helpless to know what to say, she stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She tucked her forehead against his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart against her ear. She breathed in the scent of him—clean laundry and a hint of spice from his aftershave. Her hands traced the contours of his strong arms, the hard plane of his chest and ridged abs.

  At his quick intake of breath, she glanced up in time to see his eyes darken. Her heart rate sped faster.

  Miles cupped her chin, bringing her mouth closer to his.

  “I never talk about this because it hurts too damned much.” His words sounded torn out of him.

  “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.” She’d waited half her life to hear what had happened to her friend. “At least he wasn’t alone.”

  “No. He wasn’t.” Miles stroked his fingers through her hair, sifting through the strands to cup the back of her head and draw her closer still. “Any one of us would have died to save him. That’s how close we were.”

  She’d never had friendships like that when she was a teen. Only later, once she met Astrid and then Jules, did she feel like she had people in her life who would have her back no matter what. Could she trust what Miles said about his love for Zach? She still wondered at his motives for keeping the details of Zach’s death private. But as she drew a breath to ask about that, Miles gently pressed his finger against her mouth.

  “I promise we can talk about this more,” he told her, dragging the digit along her lower lip. “But first, I need a minute.” He wrapped his other arm around her waist, his palm settling into the small of her back to seal their bodies together. “Or maybe I just need you.”

  * * *

  Miles tipped his forehead to Chiara’s, letting the sensation of having her in his arms override the dark churn of emotions that came from talking about the most traumatic day of his life. He felt on edge. Guilt-ridden. Defensive as hell.

  He should have been at Zach’s side when he jumped. He knew the guy was on edge that weekend. They’d stayed up half the night talking, and he’d known that something was off. Of course, they’d all known something was off since Zach had initiated the unsanctioned horseback riding trip precisely because he was pissed off and wanted to get away from school.

  But he’d hinted at something bigger than the usual problems while they’d talked and drank late into the night. Miles had never been able to remember the conversation clearly, since they’d been drinking. The night only came back to him in jumbled bits that left him feeling even guiltier that he hadn’t realized Zach was battling big demons.

  Miles had still been hungover the morning of the cliff-jumping accident. He hadn’t wanted to go in the first place because of that, and he sure as hell hadn’t been as clearheaded as he should have been while they’d trekked up the trail. He’d lagged behind the whole way, and by the time he realized that Zach had jumped despite the dangerous conditions, Miles’s brother was already throwing himself off the precipice to find him.

  His brain stuttered on that image—the very real fear his brother wouldn’t surface, either. And it stuck there.

  Until Chiara shifted in his arms, her hips swaying against him in a way that recalibrated everything. His thoughts. His mood. His body. All of his focus narrowed to her. This sexy siren of a woman who fascinated him on every level.

  Possessiveness surged through him along with hunger. Need.

  A need for her. A need to forget.

  He edged back to see her, taking in the spill of dark hair and mossy-green eyes full of empathy and fire, too. When her gaze dipped to his mouth, it was all he could do not to taste her. Lose himself in her.

  But damn it, he needed her to acknowledge that she wanted this, too.

  “I could kiss you all night long.” He stroked along her jaw, fingers straying to the delicate underside of her chin where her skin was impossibly soft.

  He trailed a touch down the long column of her throat and felt the gratifying thrum of her pulse racing there. He circled the spot with his thumb and then traced it with his tongue.

  “Then why don’t you?” she asked, her breathless words sounding dry and choked.

  “I can’t even talk you into the date you owe me.” He angled her head so he could read her expression better in the light of the fire. Her silky hair brushed the back of his hand. “It seems presumptuous of me to seduce you.”

  “Not really.” She tilted her face so that her cheek rubbed against the inside of his wrist, her eyelids falling to half-mast as she did it, as if just that innocent touch brought her pleasure.

  Hell, it brought him pleasure, too. But then his brain caught up to her words.

  “It wouldn’t be presumptuous?” he asked, wanting her to take ownership of this attraction flaring so hot between them he could feel the flames licking up his legs.

  “No.” Her breath tickled against his forearm before she kissed him there then nipped his skin lightly between her teeth. “Not when being with you is all I think about every night.”

  The admission slayed him, torching his reservations, because damn. He thought about her that much, too. More.

  “Good.” He arched her neck back even farther, ready to claim her mouth. “That’s...good.”

  His lips covered hers, and she was even softer than he remembered, sweetly yielding. Her arms slid around him, her body melting into his, breasts molding to his chest. He could feel the tight points of her nipples right through her blouse and the thin fabric of her bra. It felt like forever since he’d seen her. Held her. Stripped off her clothes and buried himself inside her.

  He couldn’t wait to do all those things, but he wouldn’t do them here in the middle of the living room. With someone tracking her activities, he wanted as many locked doors between them and the rest of the world as possible. He needed her safe. Naked and sighing his name as he pleasured her, yes.

  But above all, safe.

  Breaking the kiss, he spoke into her ear. “Take me to your bedroom. Our night is about to get a whole lot better.”

  Ten

  Chiara didn’t hesitate.

  She wanted Miles with a fierceness she didn’t begin to understand, but ever since their one incredible night together, she’d been longing for a repeat. Maybe a part of her hoped that she’d embellished it in her mind, and that the sizzling passion had been a result of other factors at work that night. That it was a result of her nervousness at being caught in his office. Or her fascination with meeting one of Zach’s closest friends.

  But based on the way she was already trembling for want of Miles, she knew her mem
ory of their night together was as amazing as she remembered. Wordlessly, she pulled him by the hand through the sprawling villa. At the top of the split staircase, she veered to the right, where the master suite dominated the back of the house.

  She drew him into the spacious room, where he paused to close the door and lock it, a gesture that felt symbolic more than anything, since they were the only ones home. The soft snick of the lock sent a shiver through her as she flipped on the light switch and dimmed the overhead fixture. A gas fire burned in the stone hearth in the wall opposite the bed, and even though the flames lit the room, she liked to have the overhead light on to see Miles better. She watched him wander deeper into the room to the doors overlooking the lake. He shrugged off his blue suit jacket and laid it over the back of a leather wingback by the French doors. Picking up the control for the blinds, he closed them all and turned to look at her.

  With his fitted shirt skimming his shoulders, it was easy to appreciate his very male physique. Her gaze dropped lower, sidetracked by the sight of still more maleness. All for her.

  She wanted him, but it felt good to know he wanted her every bit as much. She dragged in breath like she’d just run a race. Heat crawled up her spine while desire pooled in her belly.

  After a moment, Miles beckoned to her. “You’re too far away for us to have as much fun as I was hoping.”

  The rasp of his voice smoked through her. Anticipation spiked, making her aware of her heartbeat pulsing in unexpected erogenous zones. But she didn’t move closer. She lifted her gaze, though, meeting his blue eyes over the king-size bed.

  “Give me a moment to take it all in. The first time we were together, I didn’t get to appreciate all the details.” In her dreams, she’d feverishly recreated every second with him, but there were too many gaps in her memories. How his hair felt in her fingers, for example. Or the texture of his very capable hands. “Tonight, I’m savoring everything.”